World War Z-Tip of the Spear: Ashes to Ashes
by Robert H. Gordon Jr
Summary: Nathan George and the rest of 1-34 Team One's trials continue as the world spirals out of control.
1. Chapter 1

World War Z: Tip of the Spear-

Ashes to Ashes

By: Robert H. Gordon Jr.

**The Slums of Marrakesh, Morocco 0830z**

An air raid siren wailed loud and continuous. Smoke soiled the morning air; a dense dirty fog that choked and stung the eyes. The tan buildings bleached almost white were marred by the signs of war. Everywhere was chaos. Screaming, running, gunfire, explosions coming from all directions. Order was a forgotten concept, reason an abandoned idea. It was everyone for themselves in a free-for—all of survival and absolute terror. The virus was claiming another metropolis. Marrakesh was becoming a city of the living dead.

"Contacts coming in!"

"I'm on it!"

"I've got 'em at twelve and ten!"

"Three and five!"

M4 assault rifles barked fire and metal at shambling figures in the smoke. A low keening sound appeared amid the din; the ever-present moan. The rifles kicked and the figures began to drop. They dropped by the dozen but there were more. There were always more.

"Nate get that piece of shit up and running!"

"Almost done!" replied Nathan George former Army Specialist now a veteran member of Special Ops Alpha Unit 1-34 Team One. Sweat dripping from his chiseled features, he lugged a decrepit gas-powered generator to a pick-up truck. Plugging in an extension cord, he cut it in half and stripped away the insulation, exposing the wires. He wrapped the end of the wires around the terminals for the truck's battery.

His team had been tasked with destroying the last bridge connecting the slums to Marrakesh's main metropolitan area; effectively cutting off the bulk of the city's population and the rising number of infected. During the mission they had received a frantic call for help from a British Alpha Team. With their mission all but complete, Nathan, his Team Leader Hicks, and their Medic Melina Cruz had moved to intercept but had gotten cut off both from the British team and from the bridge.

"Cruz they're bunching up at your two o'clock!" Hicks yelled, his all-American face streaked with sweat and grime.

"Got 'em!" Cruz said. She braced the barrel of her rifle against a nearby wall and quick-fired four rounds that dropped all of the encroaching infected. Switching magazines, she took note of her reserves. "We can't do this all day, Sarge!" Tucking a wayward lock of black hair behind an ear she sighted down her rifle, seeking more targets.

Hicks put a hand to his throat activating the microphone there. "Kelly, Hicks what's our exit looking like?"

Two miles away the fourth and final member of the team lay prone on the roof of an abandoned store, every exposed part of the ginger's pale skin turning red under the harsh African sun. He was monitoring the bridge through the scope of his M24 sniper rifle. There was no living traffic. Only a score of infected lurching their way toward him. He dropped three of them that crossed the middle of the span adding to the pile of bodies strewn about. Hearing his commanding officer's request he keyed up his mike. "Sarge it's starting to get pretty thick. You need to get those guys and get back here pronto!"

Back in the fight Hicks took down three targets that had gotten too close. "You hear that Nate?" he yelled over his shoulder. Not getting a response he turned around. "Nate? NATHAN LOOK OUT!"

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end registering the invasion of his personal space. Nathan turned, his peripheral vision unconsciously confirming his fears. His body burned with the impulses streaking to his limbs. With his right hand he chopped the outstretched arms of the infected man above the elbow driving the attack sideways. His left hand drew a knife from its sheath at his back and plunged it into his attacker's temple. He pressed it home giving the blade a violent twist.

The infected man, a fat bearded Arab, shuddered and collapsed. Nathan had already forgotten about him. He could see the open door leading further into the home in whose garage they had taken shelter. There were two more infected coming. One was a woman, burka torn and revealing a mangled body. The other was a child sporting a nub of a tiny hand. Nathan dropped his knife with the body and drew his M9 Beretta. Two quick shots brought peace to a mother and her child.

Nathan holstered the pistol and retrieved his knife, wiping the black goo and brains on the leg of his digi-cammo jumpsuit, before going back to the truck. The connections established, he yanked at the pull-cord for the generator. It started after three tries, sputtering to life. Sparks flew at the battery's terminal as the electricity traveled its unconventional path into the storage device. Nathan jumped in the driver's seat and tried the engine. It sputtered, playing at starting. He waited a few more seconds.

"C'mon Nate," Hicks urged.

"Almost!"

"I've got contact!" Cruz yelled as she raised her rifle.

"Don't shoot!" The figure raised his arms and took two quick steps forward. "Corporal Wesley Shipp, Her Majesty's Special Forces." A lanky black-haired man reported. He was dressed in blood-soaked woodland fatigues and wearing a green beret. His face was smeared with camouflaging greasepaint suitable for a lush jungle environment, not the arid tan and beige of the North African Coast.

"Are you wounded?" Cruz asked, her weapon still trained.

"It's not my blood," Shipp said.

"Where's your weapon, Corporal?" Hicks asked.

Shipp jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Back there with those bastards," he paused, "and what's left of my mates."

"You're the only one?" Cruz asked. Shipp nodded. Cruz finally lowered her weapon. "Sorry."

Hicks tossed the Brit his sidearm. "For the time being, welcome to the 1-34. We hope to have a ride out of here sometime before the Second Coming."

In the cab of the truck, Nathan tried again to start the engine. It sputtered, coughed and whined. Sparks flew from underneath the hood making Nathan fear an electrical short that would render the vehicle useless. Then the truck roared to life and he said a silent prayer of thanks. Leaning out of the cab he yelled, "Who's ready to go?"

Hicks keyed up his throat mike. "Kelly, Hicks we are moving to you. Command this is 1-34 Alpha One reporting imminent mission completion. We are returning heavy one trooper, over."

_"__Command, Alpha One has the target been destroyed?"_

Hicks climbed into the cab as Nathan held up two fingers. "Command, Alpha One two minutes."

_"__Copy two minutes. Proceed to LZ for extraction."_

Cruz and Shipp hopped into the bed of the truck as Nathan backed it out of the garage. They hung on as he dropped it in gear and tore down the narrow street. Behind them a curtain of smoke fell over the growing number of shambling souls wailing for their blood. Ahead, another curtain rolled back on more of the damned and the soon-to-be trying to escape.

Nathan swerved around wrecked vehicles and scurrying people. The chaos of it all seemed to collapse around them in a cacophony of misery and fear. Behind him he heard Cruz and Shipp firing their weapons at infected, trying to give the fleeing people a chance if but for a few more moments. Beside him, Hicks reloaded their rifles. Another hard turn and they could see the bridge.

"Kelly, Hicks, we're on final." Hicks picked up his rifle and leaned out of the window. He took aim and started picking off the infected ahead of them on the bridge.

Climbing down from his position, Kelly put a hand to his throat. "I've got visual. Christ, where did Nathan get that piece of junk?"

Nathan crossed the bridge and brought the truck to a stop next to a ladder on the side of the store. Kelly appeared a few seconds later, sliding to the ground and leaping into the bed with Cruz and Shipp. Reaching into his pocket Nathan pulled out a detonator and tossed it to Hicks. "Your turn, Sarge."

"God, I'm gonna need a tetanus booster just sitting in this thing." Kelly complained.

Nathan climbed out of his window, sitting on the sill. "Don't knock her, she's a classic."

"Stow it, both of you," Hicks said. He pressed the lever on the detonator. Three blocks away the bridge shattered in a cloud of pulverized stone and infected bodies. The blast shook the ground beneath the truck. Hicks tossed the detonator back to Nathan. "Let's go."

They drove several more blocks before coming to a crowded square held by the local military. There they left the truck and climbed into a waiting Blackhawk that lifted off as soon as they were aboard. Shipp returned Hicks' pistol.

"Thanks again, mate," he said.

Hicks holstered the piece and shook Shipp's hand. "Don't mention it."

Two jets streaking past caught their attention. The fast-movers passed over the slums and broke formation. Suddenly the poverty and disease-stricken neighborhoods vanished in two massive balls of flame. The Blackhawk bucked against the shockwave and banked away from the heat. In the hold, the soldiers just watched. It was a familiar sight. The virus had won the slums. The Moroccan military had opted for a clean sweep; a thermobaric bomb designed to set fire to the air and flatten everything within its blast radius. The ordinance had reduced the slums to rubble and incinerated everything in them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Z**

The Blackhawk touched down at makeshift airbase fifty miles away from the embattled city, on the coast. There, Special Ops units from several countries were using the area to mount operations in the vicinity. Alpha One disembarked and hustled away from the bird as the crew hastily went about refueling for another mission. Once clear, they slowed down and caught their collective breaths. This was their third week in-country, their sixth mission in the last ten days. Despite their training, fatigue was beginning to set in.

"There's a contingent of your countrymen occupying an area down by the water," Hicks said. "They should be able to link you up with your command."

Shipp stared into the distance, his face a roiling sea of emotion. He took a deep breath and straightened his posture. Turning to the others he shook their hands in turn, pausing to give Cruz a kiss on the hand. "Thanks for saving my ass back there. Pop over to our side of the base and I'll see about getting you a pint or two."

"You gonna be all right, brother?" Kelly asked.

Shipp gave him a brave smile. "You know us Brits, stiff upper lip, carry on and all that. Stay safe. Cheers."

_…__We watched him leave. I've forgotten a lot about him but what I remember most was his face. It had that mix of joy and pain. Joy for being alive but suffering all the more because he was the only one. What it must have been like for him to be the last man standing._

_You hear stories like that in our circles, units go in and only one soldier comes out. You wonder what's worse, one or none. Later we would hear that he put a bullet in his mouth. The note he left behind was a confession. He had abandoned his team when they got cut off. Part of you wants to condemn him but your humanity doesn't allow it. It can't, not after what we've seen._

_We walked off the tarmac heading for our part of the base. We weren't halfway there when we were intercepted by a messenger. We were to report to staging for rearming and prep for deployment to Casablanca. If you remember, we were there two weeks prior on a support op. We barely made it out alive. Now we had to go back to extract some fool CIA operative who had missed his EVAC and deliver him and his package to the US Embassy in Rabat. No rest for the weary…_

Z

A green light activated inside the hold of the Chinook helicopter revealing the remains of Casablanca. Smoke billowed from everywhere. Below, the streets were largely deserted. What people were walking the charred avenues with their semi-destroyed buildings and wrecked vehicles were lost to infection. Looking over the ruined landscape one could see the future of Marrakesh and the current state of cities all over the world.

The bird settled over a ruined crater that used to be a vibrant neighborhood. A clean sweep had come through annihilating everything. Ropes descended from the rear deck quickly followed by Nathan and the others. Upon reaching the ground, they quickly moved off-rope and hustled to an area of cover certain the noise would attract the infected population. Traversing the rubble of ruined buildings, they climbed up to the second floor of an apartment complex whose front had been blasted away. Taking cover behind bits of rubble, they waited.

The wait was short. Scores of infected leeched from the edges from debris field and from toppled masses of stone and brick. They moved towards the epicenter seeking the source of the noise that had brought them. They searched with mindless purpose, looking both toward their surroundings and the skies. Their moans seemed to fill the air, rising in a crescendo that was almost deafening.

From their hiding places, the four soldiers coped with the nightmare playing out below them. Each had earplugs but it did little to mute the noise. Kelly gripped at his M4, rocking back and forth. Cruz propped her weapon across her knees and added her hands to the effort. Hicks sat stock-still, his eyes closed, humming quietly to himself. Nathan turned his thoughts inward, mentally taking himself somewhere else. The last year had numbed them to many things. The droning wail of the infected was not one of them.

After a half-hour the mass of inhumanity moved on. Kelly emerged first, using is M24 to scan the area. Suppressor attached, he dispatched several remaining infected, effectively clearing the visible danger. That done he dropped back behind cover. "We look good," he said. "What's the plan, Sarge?"

Hicks opened a map of the surrounding area. "All right the last known location for our spy is at this apartment building. He tapped into a satellite dish on the roof and used it to signal his position."

"So why weren't they able to pick him up with a helo?" Cruz asked.

"Too small a footprint with too many obstacles around," Hicks said. "The last time an EVAC like that was tried, it rained infected and they lost the chopper, the crew, and the asset." He handed the map over to Kelly.

Kelly studied their destination and mentally traced a line to their current position. Then he searched the nearby area for a suitable extraction point. He pointed, illustrating his idea. "We can go this way, meet him at the building then move to this area here."

"The school?" Hicks asked.

"The yard specifically," Kelly said.

Hicks nodded. "If it goes south we'll secondary at this soccer field. Okay, let's get to that building. From there Kelly and Nate will recon the extraction point and secure it for EVAC. I wanna be wheels up two minutes after we arrive."

"Yeah not like last time," Cruz chimed in.

_…__We moved out, dropping down from our position of relative safety and stepping on the charred remains below. Even after we passed from the scar left by the clean sweep, the landscape was still depressing. Even more so then since the buildings were largely intact. Take away the smoke damage and bullet holes and the place would look normal. There should be people milling around on the streets going about their daily lives, worrying about their kids or their bills. If there was anything out of place, it should have been us._

_Passing through courtyards where children once played, we stepped over the leavings of our enemy. I think it was the first time I had ever felt real fear on a mission. In the moment, there's no time and after it seems like a memory. Moving through a bloodstain so large I was convinced that it had come from more than one person, the knowledge that we were behind enemy lines sank in. I reached out with my ears and listened to the relative silence. Ours were probably the only beating hearts in the area._

_When we got to our asset's last-known we found a dozen or so infected loitering around the front door. It was an ancient four-story apartment building surrounded by taller, more modern residences. The infected weren't showing any real interest but it was clear that something had drawn them there. A white sheet was draped over the side of the roof, "SOS" scrawled on it with, what I hoped was, paint…_

The quiet shuffling of feet was drowned out in an instant deluge of suppressed gunfire. The heavy thunk of metal blasting skulls and the meaty thwack of brain matter staining the ground violated the disturbing calm. Bodies dropped where they stood before they could utter a sound. The fury of battle swept through and was suddenly gone.

Nathan stepped from his position and moved down into the killing field. He stepped among the bodies of the damned searching for signs of their mockery of life. Finding none he waved a hand over his head indicating that the area was clear. The others were with him a moment later.

"All right, you two get going," Hicks said to Nathan and Kelly. He turned to the building finding Cruz inspecting the front door. He went to one of the shuttered windows and found it nailed shut. Looking further upward he found a second-floor window whose shutters were open.

"Aw come on, Sarge, not again," Cruz whined.

"You're the gymnast," Hicks replied.

Going into her rucksack, Cruz took out a length of rope and draped it across her body. Leaving her pack behind she slung her rifle and started climbing using the awning above the front door. "Whatever happened to chivalry?"

Hicks crouched and kept his rifle trained on the street. "You lost your right to that when you enlisted."

A few minutes later, Cruz was pulling herself level with the window. The glass was filthy but she was able to see the inside of a bedroom. The door was closed and the interior appeared undisturbed. She kept climbing until her boots were on the sill. Using her knife, she defeated the window's shoddy lock. Opening it, she ducked inside.

Hicks waited a few more minutes before Cruz' rope dropped down beside him. He slung his rifle, tying the end of the rope to Cruz' rucksack before beginning his climb with Cruz covering him from the window. Once he cleared the first ten feet, she ducked back inside. A minute later he was climbing inside the window. Cruz was further in the room, covering the door with her weapon.

"Any contact?" Hicks whispered as he retrieved and stowed the rope.

Cruz shook her head, her eyes never wavering from the door. "Not a sound." She held out an arm and shrugged into her rucksack as Hicks moved past her. Once her pack was secure she rose from her kneeling position and advanced on the door, Hicks standing to one side and reaching across, the knob in his hand.

Switching on the flashlight mounted beneath the barrel of her M4, she nodded to Hicks who yanked the door open onto a narrow hallway and the remainder of a small apartment. With Cruz in the lead, they cleared the home, finding nothing but empty rooms. At the front door Hicks took point, moving them into a corridor lined with doors, some open, some not. Hicks paused indicating that they should move silently and head for the roof. They slipped down the hall cautiously, traversing the open apartment doors one at a time and always with their suppressed weapons pointing inside the gaping voids.

There was no power in the building. Even the emergency exit lights were out. The oppressive weight of the stone walls seemed to crush in on them. Though they needed every bit of their senses it seemed that all five were muted in the inky blackness. Sounds were muffled and came from everywhere. The air was thick with smell and taste of heat and rot. Even the darkness seemed to press in on their lights threatening blindness at any moment.

Reaching the end of the hall unmolested, they entered a stair tower that traveled the height of the building. Hicks continued to lead, Cruz covering their rear. He stared up at the uncertainty of the floors above. She looked down into an abyss that offered the real possibility of a fate worse than death. Both soldiers kept their lights low not wanting to alert any infected of their approach as they ascended into the unknown.

Z

An infected man dressed in a thobe reduced to strips of cloth, half his face charred away, wandered aimlessly along an avenue clogged with wrecked vehicles and debris. Mindless and lethal, the shell of a human being stumbled over a heavy block of reinforced concrete, nearly falling. Standing upright he pitched backward as a .308 round pierced his forehead and obliterated his brain. He crumpled to the street never noticing the six other dead lumps of flesh laying nearby. Four hundred yards away tucked behind a teepee of shattered rock, a sniper cracked a grin.

"This is almost too easy," Kelly said as he worked another round into the chamber. He looked over his shoulder at Nathan who was crouched behind him covering their rear. "When I finished Sniper School, I imagined roaming the deserts of Iraq or the mountains of Afghanistan hunting enemy shooters. I wanted a necklace made of HOG's teeth."

"It's good to have goals," Nathan said. "How much farther?"

Kelly tucked his M24 away in the soft case tied to his ruck. He checked his M4 and strapped it to his body. "We've got another half-mile."

"What do you think that spook's got that's important enough to dump us into this deathtrap?" Nathan asked as he took point.

Kelly shook his head, hefting his rifle and moving to follow. "I don't know but it'd better be the fucking cure."

Z

Hicks and Cruz stepped onto the roof. There they found three corpses with head wounds. One of them had a throwing knife jutting from its eye. Cruz moved to each of the bodies and inspected them while Hicks continued to search. He looked until he found a satellite dish mounted to a chimney. There were wires and some kind of device rigged to it.

Back at the dead, Cruz found bites on all three corpses. She removed the throwing knife from the last one when a hand appeared on her shoulder. Before it could grab she spun away swinging with the butt of her gun. She connected with a man's chin knocking him to the ground. She took a step back bringing her weapon to her cheek, ready to end the fight.

"Don't shoot!"

She paused, her fury waning.

"Christ, woman that hurt." The man was White and dressed in khaki cargo pants, military boots, and a black button-down shirt. He wore a lightweight OD green tactical vest that was covered with empty pouches and a black and green scarf around his head. He had closely cropped dark hair and a beard. A gloved hand was at his mouth, catching his blood. "How does someone so small hit so hard?"

"How's about you identify yourself?" Hicks said from behind him.

The man held up his hands and nodded. "All right, all right. Take it easy. My name is Richards, and I'm guessing you're my extraction?"

"Part of it," Hicks said, lowering his weapon. "If that's all, we need to move. We didn't have that much fun the last time we were here."

"Sounds good to me." Richards said. He flashed Cruz a leering grin as he took the throwing knife from her hand. "I'll be needing that back, sweetness."

Hicks keyed up his throat mike. "Kelly, Hicks, we have the package and are Oscar-Mike to you, copy?"

_"__Hicks, Nathan, we copy."_

Z

Nathan slid down a ramp of concrete formed by the destruction of a three-story building. He passed through a tunnel of rubble before landing in a crouch at the bottom. Bringing his weapon up, he scanned his surroundings for signs that his arrival had been noticed. Something was wrong. During their move toward the extraction point they'd had to engage infected targets on every street and even some trapped inside cars, reaching out like semi-sentient land mines. A few times they had gone to cover to avoid being spotted by non-infected people scurrying from hiding place to hiding place. The last ten blocks had been devoid of anything infected or no.

_…__I stepped_ _into a draw created by a series of blast craters and the partial collapse of the street_. _I was on_ _high-alert;_ _the lack of danger more disconcerting than an overwhelming enemy force._ _For weeks I had become accustomed to gunfire and the incessant moaning of the infected. The noise had, on more than one occasion threatened my very sanity. Now I missed it…_

Kelly moved into position at Nathan's back. He scanned the buildings above them seeing nothing. "Is this freaky or what?"

Nathan nodded. "I don't like this."

"Switch with me," Kelly said. He moved to the front and crawled to the lip of the war-made depression. He looked through a set of binoculars for a few moments before sliding back down. "I can see the school but I don't have a visual on the yard. There's a tall-enough building ahead that looks like it's got a ladder up the side. We'll move to it and see about getting eyes on the LZ."

The two soldiers climbed out of the draw and hustled among the shadows of the waning day until they came to the side of a four-story building. The ladder had been partially destroyed, the lowest intact rung ten feet from the ground. Nathan stood with his back against the wall and squatted slightly, making a stirrup with his hands. Kelly slung his rifle, got a running start and leaped with Nathan's help. He grabbed onto the lowest rung. Hooking his arm through, he hung for Nathan who used him to climb into the lead.

Once at the top, Nathan peered onto the roof. Finding it deserted, he finished his climb but crawled across on his belly making sure it would be impossible for anyone to see him from the street. Kelly arrived behind him and followed suit. They moved across the baking gravelly surface to the other side where they could get a view of the school yard.

_…__We stayed as hidden as we could, although the buildings around us were at least three stories taller. The last time we were there we'd had to contend with mercenaries as well as the infected. They were the worst. What little I told you about them before was compounded by the shit I found out when we got back to base._ They were becoming more and more of_ a problem. They promised escape and safety to people trying to survive. Usually they targeted women, girls, and families. The women and girls were… used as they saw fit. In the case of families, the men, and any boy that was old enough to fight, were robbed and killed unless they cooperated. The women and girls were taken and used as they saw fit. It was a terrible fate but only slightly better than what they were running from. Initially we had standing orders to avoid them. That changed when they started attacking regular military for supplies…_

"You seeing anything?" Kelly asked, scanning the yard through the scope of his sniper rifle.

"Not a thing," Nathan said as he lowered the binoculars. "I think we're clear."

Kelly kept scanning. "Area's open enough but we still got a few places to take cover if we need to. Infected traffic is still non-existent for whatever reason."

Nathan raised his binoculars again and looked around. "Yeah, that's weirding me out." He looked to Kelly. "What's the call?"

Kelly keyed up his throat mike. "1-34 Alpha One calling Flight Time. Spinner do you copy?"

_"__Roger 1-34, go ahead over."_

"It's in the bag, Spinner, looking for immediate EVAC."

_"__Copy 1-34, Flight Time is inbound to your position. Mark LZ and we'll see you in five."_

"Copy Flight Time, LZ will be marked." Kelly slipped back from the edge of the roof and tucked his rifle back in its case.

Nathan stayed in place, keying up his mike. "Hicks, Nathan, ride's on the way."

_"__Copy Nate, we've got eyes on the school."_

_"__Nate, Cruz, any signs of infected?"_

Nathan kept his eyes downrange. "Negative. It's messing with us too." Turning to his right he spotted the others emerging from behind a pile of rubble. Cruz was on point. Their asset was next with Hicks covering the rear. "I've got eyes on you. Still looks clear." He watched Cruz light a flare and hurl it into the middle of the yard. Green smoke billowed into the twilight sky.

_"__Nate, Hicks move it up."_

"That's our cue," Kelly said. He and Nathan ran in a crouch back to the ladder, the sound of the incoming Blackhawk growing louder.

Using Nathan's rope they rappelled down the side of the building one at a time. The other providing cover. Once down they moved toward the front where they could see the yard, the burning flare, and the rest of their squad. Kelly and Nathan moved cautiously, the noise of the helicopter almost deafening. If there were any infected in the area, the dinner bell was ringing.

_"__1-34 Alpha One we've got visual on the marker. Overhead in less than thirty seconds."_

_"__Copy Flight Time."_

In the lead, Kelly paused and gave Nathan a rap on the shoulder. He pointed as the Blackhawk flew into view. "There she is."

Nathan nodded. "Thank God. We can drop James Bond off and its quality chow and a hot shower."

Kelly turned back and plotted a route into the yard as the bird settled into a low hover. Hicks and the others were moving. "Here we go." They started off.

The whistle of the rocket was shockingly loud. There was no time to react. The pilot of the helicopter tried lifting away but it was too little too late. The RPG slammed into the rear rotor and tore through the tail exploding just behind the main fuselage. The helicopter was blasted in half and hurled beyond the confines of the yard into the surrounding buildings like a flaming meteor.

The gunfire started next. Automatic rifles clattered and hot lead kicked up chips of rock and concrete around Hicks and the others. The trio ran for cover firing in all directions while searching for their attackers. Nathan and Kelly moved toward the yard at an angle, giving them a wider view of the battlefield.

"You got eyes on enemy?" Nathan yelled as they moved.

Kelly's rifle panned back and forth. "Not yet, wait. Contact twelve and change, one and two." He grabbed at his throat. "Hicks, Kelly! We're cut off! They're at your three to five! We'll lay down suppressing fire while you make a run for the school!"

_"__Copy that. On your go!"_

Nathan sighted down his weapon at the muzzle flash belonging to a silhouette two hundred meters away. He flipped his selector switch from "SEMI" to "BURST" and squeezed the trigger. His rifle kicked and the target was felled. Another moved to take its place. His next shot was not as well-placed but did the job. Kelly added his weapon to the fight and the opposition's fire slackened.

Kelly grabbed his throat. "Go! Go! Go!"

_"__Moving!"_

Hicks took off for the school, ignoring the rounds zipping past him. Behind him Richards was firing with an AK-47 he had acquired along the way. Cruz was covering their rear, her rifle sending a cloud of lead at their attackers. Hicks reached the doors of the school and pulled. Surprisingly they opened. Even more surprising was the lack of infected on the other side. Hicks ducked into the closest room and saw that it too lacked any danger. He moved back to the main doors and lent his weapon to Cruz' effort, allowing her and Richards to move past him to safety.

At their position, Kelly and Nate kept firing but more flak was coming their way. They would need to move and soon.

_"__Hicks, we're in!"_

"Copy!" Kelly yelled over his rifle. He gave Nathan's shoulder a tap. "Let's go!"

_…__We retreated. It wasn't the first time. We'd backed down from more than our share of conflicts but always as a squad. Leaving Hicks and the others pinned down in that school, enemies at their front, and the unknown at their backs. It felt like treason._

_Kelly had a plan though. I followed him back to the rooftop. From there we got a visual at what was coming at us. Looking at their position, we were able to get a measure of their forces. What we saw wasn't good. We were outnumbered and outgunned. The enemy was coordinated and practiced; choosing not to rush in but rather take stock and wait. Up there on the roof we could see everything but could do nothing about it…_

"Hicks, Kelly, status?"

Below, Hicks kept his rifle trained on the door. Behind him Cruz covered the vast unknown that was the school while Richards reloaded his weapon. Shifting into a seated firing position, Hicks keyed up his mike. "Kelly, Hicks. We're okay. What the hell was that?"

_"__There's an enemy force about three hundred meters southwest of your position. They are holding currently. My guess waiting to see how many infected come around to the crash."_

Hicks lowered his weapon and relaxed slightly. "What's that looking like?"

_"__A few so far. Once the sun goes down with the light from the fire we'll get more. Orders?"_

"Hold in place for now. I'll come back with our next move." Hicks turned away from the door. "Cruz, rig the door while I secure the room."

Cruz moved from her position digging into her butt pack. From it she removed a frag grenade and a spool of thread. While she was building her trap, Hicks secured the only other door in the room. Richards looked back and forth between the two soldiers as they worked.

"You ordered them to hold?" he asked. "You know whoever that is will be regrouping, right?"

Hicks, walking across the room, checked his weapon making sure he had a full magazine primed and ready to fire. He checked his sidearm as well. He looked up as Cruz finished her work. She gave him a silent thumb's-up. Hicks nodded, holstered his pistol and slung his rifle.

Cruz stood next to Richards checking her own weapons. "Kelly and Nate will be moving in on the enemy position for recon and to even the odds."

"It's a standing order since we can't be sure they aren't listening in," Hicks said. "What we can do," he snatched his knife from its sheath on his leg and kicked Richards onto his back as Cruz made sure the spy's weapons were not in reach, "is ask you who the hell they are."

Richards ignored the knife at his throat. "You need to stand down, soldier. You are under orders to bring me in."

"Fuck you," Hicks said. "I knew the men in that chopper. They're dead, we're pinned down and two of mine are cut off. Those aren't some hijab-wearing radicals out there spraying lead from old Soviet guns and getting lucky with an RPG. That was a precise attack from trained soldiers who know well-enough not to come swooping in after us."

"Mercenaries have operated in this area for decades," Richards said.

Hicks turned his knife point down and placed it under Richard's chin. "Yeah, we've met them. That chopper was more valuable to them intact. Now I'm gonna ask you one more time. Who are they and why do they want you dead?"

"All right!" Richards said. He sighed. "I suspect they are a unit of Chinese Special Ops culled together from one or two of their Alpha Teams."

"Why do the Chinese want you dead?" Cruz asked.

"Because of what I know." Richards looked back and forth between the two soldiers. "It's a long story."

"We've got until we hear from Kelly and Nate or that door explodes," Hicks said. "Start talking."

Richard sighed. "Have either of you heard of the Warbrunn-Knight Report?" He looked back and forth between them.

"I remember Nate mentioning it." Cruz said. "He said heard about it when we were passing through Tikrit. It was supposed to be Israel's plan to fight the infection."

Richards nodded. "Sort of. It's not quite that but it's the primary reason why your team exists. Anyway it was presented to the UN and to the White House. For the most part, it was ignored."

"You just said that it was the reason the Alpha Teams were created," Hicks said.

"That report was hundreds of pages," Richards said. "The part suggesting Special Forces engage the infected was one paragraph. According to Command more intelligence was needed before we committed fully to the plans and guidelines the report suggested."

"When was this?"

Richard sniffed. "I've been Oscar-Mike for over two years." He lifted his chin off the point of Hicks' knife and sat up. "Our orders came down from the White House Chief of Staff. Piece of shit wannabe insider named Grover Carlson. He tasked my team with verifying the Warbrunn-Knight Report in its entirety. CIA Command told him it was unnecessary, that reports from our field agents, assets, and forward positions were providing verification on their own. Hell, the shit we were getting out of Kyrgyzstan should have been enough. Some chest puffing and dick-measuring later and me and four other operatives ended up on a plane bound for nowhere."

Hicks sheathed his knife. "Where's the rest of your team?"

"Dead or dead-ish," Richards said. "We followed the paper trail. Moved all over the world. Spoke with everyone we could. By the time we got to Siberia, the world was waking up to the nightmare we had been living for eighteen months. There was no need to verify anything. The virus had made its way to Fox News and CNN and there was no denying it anymore."

"Is that when your mission ended?"

Richard shook his head. "Priorities were changed. We got orders to trace the disease back to its origin. Tracked it all the way to this shit-hole dirt village in China. New Dachang. That's where Patient Zero came from. Twelve-year-old boy. Found out he was taken intact by Chinese Government 'officials'. From there we followed the trail to Beijing and then Hong Kong. After that it all went to shit. China started to implode. Russia and the Middle East were going right along with it. Three of us barely made it out of Hong Kong. Two of us survived India. My partner bought it in South Africa."

Cruz frowned. "I don't get it. If the world knew what was going on, why send you to China? Were they looking for a cure?"

"I wasn't sent to China," Richards said. "That's where the trail led. And we weren't sent looking for a cure. We were sent looking for someone to blame. By that time the first indisputable cases were popping up back home. Phalanx's inability to protect people was becoming common knowledge. The White House was going to have a lot to answer for. They needed somebody to pass the buck to."

"So the Chinese are after you to what, save face?" Cruz asked.

"Would you want to be known as the nation that caused the end of the world?" Richards asked. "Not that it matters anymore."

Hicks crouched in front of the spy. "What do you mean?"

"Nobody gives a shit where this disease came from. Everybody's too busy trying to survive." Richards pointed towards doors. "That is happening right now all over the world. Everywhere. You and your buddies maybe bought us another month or so but time's up. The Warbrunn-Knight Report was supposed to be executed in the beginning of this crisis not at the end. It's too late for any of it now."

He started rocking back and forth. "You wanna know how many of our other Alpha Teams are like you, operating OCONUS? Five, maybe six. Five or six out of thirty! Everybody else was pulled home to back up regular military operations that are happening as we speak. The rest of the world might have two or three teams operating outside their borders but I doubt it."

"Things can't be this bad back home," Cruz started.

Richard turned to her. "Why? Because they would've told you? Are you really that naïve?"

"Why are you so important?" asked Hicks, his voice quiet. "If it's all gone to shit, your mission doesn't matter anymore, so why risk the four of us to bring you in?"

Richards looked down. "On the way back, me and my partner shacked up with a bunch of Indian refugees making their way to Madagascar. When we got there we made contact with a safe house in Cape Town. It was run by this douche-bag Van Wilder-type asshole looking to make his bones. Anyway he had a few of his assets bring us in. At the time, South Africa was going through what America is now."

He leaned forward. "We came in, debriefed and were looking to make our way back to the States when he laid it on us."

"What?"

"Running his own little op, he had intercepted communications among members of the ruling administration." Richard laughed. "Well, communication is not the right word. Screaming argument is more apt. They were talking about bringing in some guy named Paul Redeker. They kept mentioning something called Orange Eighty-Four and how he was the best strategist in the world."

"You contacted him?" Hicks asked. When Richard nodded he added, "Why?"

"Is that sweet sound of racism I hear in your Smoky Mountain drawl?" Richards asked.

"No. Every country has the world's greatest everything," Hicks said. "What makes this Redeker so special?"

Richards nodded thoughtfully. "I'll put it this way. For the current administration to go to this guy for strategy would be like the Jews taking their kids to Josef Mengele for medical treatment. When I say that he was hated it's because I don't know a word more negative than that."

"They could have just been desperate," Cruz offered.

"They were and in their desperation Paul Redeker was who they decided to turn to. Understand the U.S. was heading in the same direction. If this guy had any ideas I thought it might be worth knowing." Richards rubbed his face. "We found him at this cabin in the middle of nowhere. He wasn't what we expected; this plain man who was polite to us but indifferent. He outlined his plan over tea."

"And?" Cruz asked.

"Part of me wanted to kill him right then and there," Richards said. "One for thinking up a plan as… I don't have the words, and two because I knew the world would adopt it. It was for the same reasons that I didn't kill him. My partner and I bugged out and started to make our way up here. The Chinese caught up with us and took him out as we were crossing the border into Namibia. That was almost two months ago."

"Two months?" Hicks asked.

"It took a bit to get through the Congo in one piece." Richards shifted his legs. "Anyway I managed to make contact with Command and tell them what I had learned both from my mission and from Redeker. Bastards had already written me off but I went from 'presumed KIA' to 'valued asset'."

"I don't understand why the Chinese still want you dead," Hicks said. "If everyone else is backing off and fending for themselves. Why keep coming after you?"

Richards shrugged. "Pride. Honor. I don't know. They wouldn't be the first group to hang on to stupid ideals. You passed through Iraq, right? I first ended up there because 'they hate us for our freedom'. There's no telling what that crew was told I did."

"Now they're between us and a ride outta here," Cruz said.

"Let's wait to hear from Nate and Kelly," Hicks said.


	3. Chapter 3

**Z**

In the darkness, Nate and Kelly moved among the mountains of rubble in total silence. To their left, the dying glow of the burning helicopter wreckage cast eerie shadows on their surroundings. In the distance, the mournful wail of the infected could be heard as more and more afflicted arrived, drawn by the noise and light of the fire.

The pair of soldiers were circling around to flank the opposition. Kelly led the way, sometimes moving in a crouch, sometimes sprinting, sometimes slithering along on his stomach to find the perfect vantage point. Nathan did his best to keep up, but Kelly moved quickly. They became separated a few times. It was after one of those times when Nate climbed into an exposed second-floor apartment and found Kelly using ruined drywall and an overturned table as cover. The sniper held a finger to his lips and pointed below.

On the first floor of their building but surrounded by a hastily put-together barricade using rubble and wrecked cars was a group of ten men. They were dressed in dark hijabs and heavily armed, obviously waiting for the number of infected to dwindle before making their next move. Though the group was largely silent there was some quiet chatter among the individuals.

"That's not Arabic," Nathan whispered.

"Doesn't matter," Kelly replied. He pointed at an exposed apartment across from and above their position. "I need you to get to there. We'll do 'shock and awe' but go weapons quiet. Also tell Hicks what's up once you're secure."

_…__He got into his position as I left. Moving through a ruined door into a hall so black it seemed to swallow the world I felt a sudden sense of loneliness. Stalking past the clutter left behind by panic-stricken people I would never meet, I got more and more depressed. Every piece of trash and charred knickknack represented a life that was either snuffed out or horribly altered._

_I told Hicks what we were planning to do. I could hear the strain in his voice as he acknowledged. He wanted to help. Two against ten were shit odds even with the element of surprise. No matter how confident we were, he would feel better if he were lending his rifle to the fight…_

Nathan emerged from the darkness and into the relative light. He crouched slowly and carefully, looking down on the enemies below. They moved around completely oblivious, a few staring at the burning airship and the wandering souls around it. Two men were off to one side, one gesturing toward the school. They were planning an offensive.

Nathan drew a fragmentation grenade from a pouch on his LBV. Using a small light, he signaled to Kelly with three quick flashes. Counting down from three, he pulled the pin on the grenade, cooked it for two seconds and arced it into the air. A moment before, Kelly had hurled a flash-bang.

The flash-bang went off in the middle of the enemy position. The sudden blast of light and sound brought brilliantly concussive confusion that was instantly followed by the abrupt punishment of ballistic shrapnel. Men screamed in disoriented panic. They foolishly opened fire without suppressors adding more light and sound to the mix. Most of their fire was aimed toward the school.

Nathan and Kelly made them pay for their misconception. From their hidden positions they let fly a barrage of hot lead that rained down with ruthless precision. Months and months of persistent head-hunting had made the practice a reflex. Skulls split and brains disintegrated. Ten, made six from the explosion, became three and then one. Bleeding from shrapnel and gunfire, the rest of his team dead, and the infected, brought by the noise, bearing down, the remaining man chose to end his own life. The fight lasted less than a minute. The pair of soldiers quickly tucked themselves into hiding.

"Threat neutralized," Kelly said over the com.

_…'__Threat neutralized'. I'd heard it dozens of times but it never sounded so final until that moment. We had encountered traditional resistance before. We'd put down our share of misguided insurgents and crazed survivors. Every time it was 'threat neutralized'. This was somehow different. We did not know who they were or why they had chosen to attack us; however, there was almost a kinship between us. Like us, they were soldiers following orders. Like us they were far away from home and facing the same threats as we. What made us so different from them? _

_I remember trying to rationalize it in my mind, the sound of the infected feeding on their bodies making its way to my hidden nest. They were the enemy. They killed four of ours and deserved what they got. They stood in the way of the completion of our mission. I still felt guilty._

_We stayed there the night. By the time the sun was rising, the fire from the chopper was out. There was almost nothing left of the enemy fire team and the infected had moved on chasing the sound of gunfire somewhere in the distance. Hicks rallied us just as a beat-up UH-60 dropped in to pick us up. That was when we got our first real look at the spook. Climbing aboard that chopper, he had the look. His eyes were sunken in. His face was slack. It was like he'd aged twenty years._

_Hicks and Cruz had some of that look. It was like they knew something terrible and it was eating them alive. Kelly inquired. Hicks brushed him off. Whatever it was would have to wait. On the ride to the embassy everyone was quiet. We looked straight out towards the horizon. No one looked down. Well except for the spy. He kept staring at a digital recorder. It looked like he was debating whether or not to chuck it out the open door. I didn't know it then but he was making a critical choice. One that would determine the fate of our country…_

The chopper swept over the south wall of the US embassy in Rabat and swung its tail around to land in a modest courtyard. A squad of Marines moved in to attend to the bird. Nathan and the others moved away from the airship towards the main building. The spy lagged behind. Hicks slowed with him.

"I used to get a thrill out of completing my missions," Richards said. "I guess there's no honor in destroying the human race."

Hicks sighed. "You have to look at it from a larger aspect."

Richards nodded. "Oh I am. I understand that what's on this recorder represents the only hope we have." He scowled at the plastic and metal device. "But once this is unleashed it's all over. This plan. This… thing. This… true weapon of ultimate destruction will save our species," he paused, "but we will never be able to call ourselves 'human' again." He looked up as a group of men in black BDUs emerged from the building flanking a woman in a dark suit. "There's my ride. Good luck Sergeant."

Hicks stepped back as Richards was collected. He watched as the recorder was claimed by the woman in the suit and tucked into a pocket. The entire group was gone a moment later. Hicks slung his rifle and walked after his team. He found them inside the embassy's armory with several Marines huddled around a television.

"What are we watching?" Hicks asked.

"Army's taking the fight to the zombies," one of the Marines replied. "They've got tanks, MLRs, Apaches, you name it."

"It ain't doing shit though," someone said in awe.

"Why are they in foxholes?" Cruz asked.

"Are they in MOPP gear?" Kelly chimed in.

"Where is this?" Nathan asked.

"Yonkers," someone answered.

"Jesus, I live just three blocks from there," someone else said. "Anybody got a phone? I should call home. I need to call home."

"Stand easy, they evacuated everybody before the zombies showed up."

Nathan looked up from the screen. "Zombies?"

The Marine shrugged. "What do ya'll call 'em?"

"C'mon guys hold the line."

"They're getting close."

"How many are they up against?" from Kelly.

"Fox News flew a bird over, the G's stretch back to Times Square."

"Hold the line. Hold the line!"

_…__They didn't hold the line. We watched as the greatest fighting force the world has ever known bowed and broke under the relentless assault of the infected horde. The zombie horde. The room was silent. Just a sea of faces greased with camo and smeared with grime staring in horror at the spectacle on the screen. With a bird's-eye view we watched our brethren literally get eaten alive. The feed went black for a few moments before flashing through several views from cameras on the ground. Everything was chaos. Smoke, fire, soldiers panicking. Muzzle flashes and… zombies. Zombies shuffling. Zombies attacking. Zombies eating._

_The feeds suddenly switched to another aerial view of the battlefield. Even removed by height we could still feel the bedlam below. There were no more lines. The zombies were among our forces. The image shifted violently as the helicopter moved away and gained altitude. I caught the streak of the fast-mover as it buzzed past. The cameraman swung his instrument around just in time to see it._

_Hicks pulled us away. Moved us into another room. I turned from the screen as it went white with static before coming into focus on a massive fireball. A clean sweep had been ordered and executed on American soil… A fucking clean sweep. God help us all…_

**The**

**End**


End file.
